Chapter 5
The room tilted.
I heard Arthur say my name, but his voice sounded far away.
Camille was pregnant.
Ryan’s other wife.
His legal wife.
The woman from the hotel.
Pregnant.
I pressed the phone harder to my ear.
“How far along?”
Grace’s voice was gentle.
“About seven months.”
Seven.
My miscarriage had been six months ago.
Ryan had held me in the hospital while I cried.
He had kissed my forehead and said, We’ll get through this.
And somewhere, Camille was already carrying his child.
Or maybe he knew before.
Maybe he mourned one baby with me while planning another life with her.
I ran to the bathroom and threw up.
Arthur stayed outside the door.
He did not try to comfort me with words.
Good.
Words would have made it worse.
When I came back, Grace was still on the line.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“Does Camille know about me?”
“We don’t know.”
I laughed once.
Broken.
“Maybe I’m the other woman.”
“No,” Grace said firmly. “You were deceived.”
“Was she?”
“We need to find out.”
Arthur looked at me.
“I’ll call her.”
I shook my head.
“No.”
He blinked.
“I should—”
“No,” I said again. “Ryan lied to me. Linda lied to me. Maybe Camille lied too. But I need to hear her voice myself.”
Grace said, “We can arrange contact through counsel.”
“I don’t want Ryan to know first.”
“Then we do it carefully.”
By evening, Grace had reached Camille’s attorney.
Camille had one.
That told me something.
The next morning, I sat in Grace’s office while a secure video call connected.
Camille appeared on screen.
Pale.
No makeup.
Long dark hair tied back.
One hand resting on her pregnant belly.
She looked at me.
And burst into tears.
That was my first answer.
She knew enough to be afraid.
But not everything.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
I stared at her.
“For what?”
“For coming back. For believing him. For thinking you knew.”
My chest tightened.
“You thought I knew he was married to you?”
She wiped her face.
“He told me your marriage was only for business. That you knew it wasn’t legal. That his mother arranged it for appearances after his grandfather threatened to cut him out unless he looked settled.”
Arthur, sitting beside me, went white.
Grace’s pen stopped.
Camille continued.
“He said you had an agreement.”
I could barely speak.
“An agreement?”
She nodded miserably.
“He said you wanted security. He said he paid for your condo, your lifestyle, your mother’s care.”
“My mother is dead.”
Camille closed her eyes.
“I know that now.”
“How?”
“Because I searched you after I got pregnant and he became controlling.”
Her voice trembled.
“He wouldn’t let me contact you. Said you were unstable. Said you lost a baby and blamed him. Said you might hurt me.”
I leaned back.
Same story.
Different woman.
Same cage.
Grace spoke.
“Camille, are you legally divorced from Ryan Carter?”
“No.”
“Did you believe Ava Morgan knew about your legal marriage?”
Camille looked at me.
“At first, yes. Later, no.”
“Why didn’t you reach out?”
Camille’s eyes filled again.
“Because Linda came to see me.”
Arthur inhaled sharply.
“When?” I asked.
“Three months ago. She said if I exposed Ryan before the baby was born, he would panic and Ava would destroy him. She said stress could hurt my pregnancy.”
Her hand tightened over her stomach.
“She said I had waited this long and should be patient.”
Linda.
Always managing.
Always deciding which woman should suffer quietly for her son.
Arthur whispered, “God help us.”
Camille looked at him then.
“Judge Carter?”
He nodded.
Her face crumpled.
“I wrote you once.”
Arthur froze.
“What?”
“After Ryan stopped answering my calls the first year. I wrote to your house. I asked if he had filed divorce papers.”
Arthur turned slowly toward me.
“I never received it.”
Camille said, “Linda responded.”
Grace leaned forward.
“Do you have the response?”
Camille nodded.
“I saved everything.”
By lunch, we had it.
A letter from Linda.
Written three years ago.
Camille,
Ryan has moved on. The marriage was a drunken error and will be dissolved when appropriate. Do not contact Arthur. Do not contact Ryan at the family home. Any attempt to embarrass this family will be met with consequences.
Linda Carter
Arthur read it twice.
His hands shook.
“She intercepted my mail.”
Then Camille sent more.
Messages from Ryan.
Money transfers.
Voice notes.
One voice note made the room go cold.
Ryan’s voice.
“If Ava finds out before Mom fixes the estate issue, everything falls apart. Just keep calm, Camille. After the baby, we’ll make it legal.”
Estate issue.
Arthur looked like he had stopped breathing.
Grace asked, “What estate issue?”
Arthur’s voice was hollow.
“My father’s trust.”
He looked at me.
“Ryan only receives full control of his inheritance if he remains legally married for five consecutive years.”
I stared at him.
“But his legal marriage was to Camille.”
Arthur nodded.
“And hidden. If exposed, the trustees could freeze everything.”
Grace’s eyes sharpened.
“So he needed Ava as public wife and Camille as legal wife.”
I whispered, “Why?”
Arthur closed his eyes.
“Because my father hated scandal. Ryan needed a respectable marriage everyone could see.”
Camille put a hand over her mouth.
I felt sick.
Not with grief now.
With clarity.
May you like
I had not been a wife.
I had been camouflage.
